


Sickness and Health

by lolcat202



Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12975648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolcat202/pseuds/lolcat202
Summary: A little continuation of the bedroom scene from Sanctuary City pt. 4.





	Sickness and Health

She let out the breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding, watching Andy process the information dump she’d just thrown on him about her diagnosis. Her gut instinct was to sugarcoat what Dr. Jacobs had told her out of concern for his blood pressure and stress levels, but the irony of making light of her heart condition to protect his wasn’t lost on her. So she told him the truth. He’d gotten a little green around the gills when she circled back to treatment options if the virus progressed, but he pressed his lips together and nodded for her to continue, waiting for her to finish repeating what the doctor had said – word for word – until he weighed in.

“So right now we just wait and see?”

“Yes. I’ll have regular check-ups with Dr. Jacobs to monitor my condition, and if and when it’s necessary, we’ll devise a game plan.”

“Okay,” Andy said. He nodded a few times and brushed his hands on his thighs. “Okay. That’s…uh…okay.”

“Andy,” Sharon said, reaching out to wrap her hands around his, “it’s going to be fine.” She had told herself that so many times over the course of the last eight hours that she was almost ready to believe it herself.

“I know. As long as you get some rest. And sitting doesn’t count.” He tugged at the fingers entwined with his until she was standing, then pushed her to the bathroom. “Go finish getting ready for bed. I’ll be warming it up for you.”

True to his words, he had the covers turned down and her pillow punched and fluffed into submission – both for her benefit and his need to take out his frustrations on something - by the time she returned, freshly scrubbed, from the bathroom. She tossed her robe on the chair and settled in the bed next to him, and she had to fight back a sigh of relief at finally being able to let go of the last several hours and settle into their bed, in their room, in their home, and curl up next to Andy. He reached over her to snap off her bedside lamp, casting their room into darkness, then pulled her close.

“You want to tell me how you’re really feeling?” Andy whispered.

“Andy, I’m fine. Truly. Dr. Jacobs said that I can return to work.”

“I’m not asking about that. Not asking how you’re going to explain this to me, or Rusty, or the team. I’m asking you how you feel.”

As his words washed over her in the darkness, she fell in love with him all over again. Not just for asking her to be open with him, but for knowing that she needed this – their bed, the dark room, his arms around her – to let go of being strong for everyone around her and admit that she was scared. And she was scared. She nestled closer to him and tucked her chin into the space between his shoulder and his neck, taking comfort in the residual scent of his aftershave and the warmth his skin provided. So warm…sometimes she felt that all she did was pull the warmth from him and try to melt the ice that had settled in her bones years ago.

“I don’t know how I feel. And I’m afraid to try and figure that out.”

His arms tightened around her, and he brushed a kiss along her hairline. “You aren’t supposed to figure out how you feel,” he said. “You’re allowed to just feel it, even if it’s not rational, or fits with your rule book. So talk to me.”

Sharon closed her eyes. Talking to Andy had been easy for so long that she could barely remember the time when they couldn’t be in the same room without him shouting at her, but talking to him about this – honestly, suggesting that they postpone the wedding and knowing what it would do to him was easier than admitting how she truly felt.

“I don’t want to die,” she admitted in a small voice.

She expected him to argue, to remind her that Dr. Jacobs said that she’d most likely be fine. She didn’t expect him to whisper, “I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, and she didn’t need to see him in the darkness to know he was smiling at her. “I hate to point it out, but you’re not the only person in this bed with a heart condition. You think I don’t lie awake at night and worry that I’m not going to be around in the morning to make you coffee? I’ve almost dropped dead twice since we got together. I know what it’s like to worry about not having enough time with the people I love.”

How had she ever gotten so lucky to have this man next to her? Whatever the case brought, however much it chipped away at her faith, Sharon made a mental note to stop by the church tomorrow and send a prayer up to all the saints that had kept them both safe until they could find each other and find this little corner of heaven in a high-rise in Los Feliz.

“I’m afraid of what’s going to happen. And I hate myself for thinking that it would be easier if we postponed the wedding. I don’t want you to think that I’m pushing you away, but it seems that I always do that when things get tough.” She pulled away enough to prop herself up on an elbow, studying him in the dim lights cast from the windows. “Do you think I’m pushing you away?”

“I think you’re an idiot,” Andy said, but he took the sting out of his favorite insult with a brush of his fingers to her cheek. “You’re not going to push me away, even if you try. I sold my house. I have nowhere else to go, unless I move in with Provenza and Patrice. And sweetheart, if that happens, I will definitely die of a heart attack and I’ll take you down with me.”

Sharon tried to choke down the giggles that bubbled up out of deference to Rusty, asleep across the hall. She would expect nothing less from the pigheaded lieutenant that had been a thorn in her side since she started covering the tough cases in FID. “Is that what we should put in our vows? Till death, or heart conditions, or joint spitefulness do us part?”

“Sweetheart, whatever you want to put in our vows is fine with me. Just as long as you promise me the sickness and health.”

“I can’t promise the health,” she said with a small laugh. “But I can promise everything else.”

His lips caressed her forehead, then her cheek, then found her own. “That’s good enough for me.”


End file.
